


Working Out the Kinks

by rahelawriter



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ascian, Bathing/Washing, Booty Calls, Breakfast in Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Dragon sex, Elf Sex, F/F, F/M, Femdom, Fluff, Fondling, Gen, Lesbian Sex, M/M, Multi, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Other, PWP, Pegging, Porn with Feelings, Post-Apocalypse, Sex Pollen, Strap-Ons, Tongue Fucking, Vaginal Fingering, Vore, Waltzing, playful cheek-poking, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-06-04 03:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6640003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rahelawriter/pseuds/rahelawriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My responses to various prompts in the FFXIV Kink Meme on Dreamwidth. These drabbles, as you can probably guess, will be very smutty. And half the time I impulsively choose these prompts just to challenge myself, and they might get weird. Some of the more story-oriented smut will have multiple parts, but I might not post them in sequential order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Riding the Unicorn (F!WoL/Haurchefant)

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt I was working from can be found here: https://ff14kink.dreamwidth.org/460.html?thread=1996#cmt1996
> 
> "Anyone/Anyone, pegging  
> (Anonymous)  
> 2016-03-13 05:43 pm (UTC)(link)  
> My preference is for Aymeric or Haurchefant getting pegged but really anything is great!"

It was unlike anything the Warrior of Light had ever seen. The long, narrow leather phallus that had been strapped to her groin was not real, but from watching Haurchefant slavering over it, it almost managed to fool her. Little moans from the both of them echoed off the walls of the empty war room; she sat in the chair usually reserved for the commander, but now she was slowly fucking said commander’s mouth while he caressed and massaged her inner thighs. His enthusiasm was only to be expected, of course, considering this was his idea. And after all the times he’s indulged her, it was only right to return the favor, was it not? Besides, this idea of reversing their usual roles was more than enough to pique her curiosity.

And gods above, he looked beautiful, bobbing his head up and down between her legs, hungrily sucking on her strap-on as if it were the real thing. Hungrily, and so earnestly, that she started running her fingers through his hair, gently rubbing the shells of his ears, whispering words of love and appreciation into them; just like he does for her.

It was hard for the adventurer to tear her lover’s lips from her false cock, but she managed to convince him, telling him it was time to get started. At this, he didn’t even bother to hide his delight, grinning with excitement as he moved to lay down upon his own desk, spreading his legs as wide as possible and pressing his knees up to his chest, gleefully exposing both his erection and his entrance. She was tempted to ask Haurchefant if he had done this before, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer. Better to focus on the task at hand, and that was to prepare him for penetration.

Coating her fingers with a pleasantly-scented oil, she rubbed a digit around the puckered ring and finally slid two fingers in, testing the knight’s reactions. And he did not disappoint, shivering and curling his toes, looking at her with a slight pout, prompting her to continue; so she did, slowly and carefully working him open, applying more oil to minimize friction wherever she felt it. Meanwhile her free hand wandered, starting by kneading at his inner thigh, moving to cup and stroke his sac, and finally massaging gently working his shaft at a controlled pace. And from the way he groaned, how his body undulated under her ministrations and his cock throbbed between her fingers, she was fanning the fire inside him to burning. She decided to heat him up even more, and inserted a third finger.

“Nnn…  _ Ah! _ ” Haurchefant moaned in response, jerking his hips up, with a drip of pre oozing from the tip of him. “Mmm, please, love,” he pouted, “don’t tease…”

“You’re so excited. It’s beautiful…” Already he was starting to sweat, face flushed with anticipation. For not the first time that day, the warrior was keenly aware of how much physically larger her lover was than her; as powerful as she was on the battlefield, she was still tiny in stature, (though not as tiny as a Lalafell) while he outsized her in both height and width. How easily he would tower over her and scoop her into his strong arms like she weighed nothing; all his years of constant training and battle leaving him broad-chested and muscular, almost intimidating. But now here he was, sweating and panting beneath her, gleefully melting into her touch, wanting her to dominate him. “ _ You’re _ beautiful.”

She finally decided that he had been lubed up enough; removing her fingers and climbing up onto the desktop with him, she settled down on her knees between his thighs, positioning the dildo at his entrance. The knight shivered in anticipation and looked up at her with a smile, reaching down to spread himself for her. That was all the confirmation she needed. Bracing herself by holding his hips, she pushed into him with a startling ease; within a second she hilted in his ass, causing Haurchefant to bite his lip and stifle a loud groan.

The adventurer started slowly, rocking her hips forward and back, stroking his pulsing warm cock; once she and her knight found a rhythm she picked up the pace, fucking him with strong, steady thrusts. The lack of friction greatly reduced the amount of effort needed to keep it up, and even though her false phallus had no sensation in it, watching Haurchefant writhe in pleasure beneath her was more than gratifying enough. Listening to the little whimpers that would emerge from his throat, harmonizing with every lewd smack of her skin against his, it was like music, filling her with an indescribable new rush of excitement. She thrusted into him, again and again, while circling her thumb around his tip, coaxing out more slick pre. 

“So, Haurchefant?” The adventurer panted out between thrusts. “Am I doing well?”

“Fury above, yes, you are!” He cried out, utterly exhilarated. “Ah, don’t stop…!”

“Mm, good. You’re doing good, too,” she cood to him, pride swelling in her chest. And then she had an idea. “You’re my obedient little steed, aren’t you?”

“Yes, darling, I am!”

“Then get on your knees; I want to ride you.” She said, unable to prevent a smile from rising to her face when Haurchefant let out what sounded like a disappointed whimper. Chuckling and leaning forward to affection stroke his cheek, she went on, “Yes, I know you want to look at me, but no complaining.”

“Nnn… Yes, dearest…” And he obeyed her instructions, though letting out a subtle whine when the adventurer unsheathed herself from him. Once he’d finished getting into the new position, she took a moment to admire him, on all fours atop the desk, with his head bowed and arse in the air. She couldn’t resist giving that arse an appreciative smack and a squeeze, prompting an excited shiver from the knight. Then she got to her feet; the length of his legs meant she would have to stand and then squat so her strap-on could reach him. And he welcomed her back in, his rectum consuming the phallus with ease; she resumed her thrusting, and this position seemed to be even more pleasurable for Haurchefant from how he was keening with clenched fists and curled toes.

Exactly what she expected would happen; penetrating him from this position would directly stimulate his prostate. She’d studied up on male anatomy only hours beforehand in preparation for this very tryst, and the research was paying off; the knight was definitely close now, arching his back, his arse rising up to meet her thrusts, begging her to fuck him harder,  _ rougher! _ And she obliged him, reaching around to pump his cock, while leaning forward far enough so her tongue could tickle the point of his ear.

“ _ Cum for me, Haurchefant _ ,” she whispered.

That was it; on command, the knight let out a strangled, yet enraptured gasp, his seed spurting out onto the desk. Finally he slumped forward, removing himself from his lover’s dildo, and rolled to the side, breathing heavily, eyes half-lidded and lips only slightly parted. The Warrior of Light got back on her knees, unbuckling the straps on her harness, and leaned over him, brushing his sweat-dampened bangs out of his face. And that was when he struck like a serpent, lashing his arms around her with a mock-roar, pulling her into a happy embrace and peppering her face with kisses, both dissolving into a fit of giggles.

Haurchefant was the first to speak again. After catching his breath, he nuzzled his forehead into the woman’s shoulder and sighed, “Ah, my dear, that, that was,  _ splendid… _ ”

“There we go, there we go,” she crooned, stroking his hair, kissing him on the nose. “You were such an excellent steed, my sweet unicorn…”

The two cuddled there together on the desk for what felt like ages, until the elezen spoke up again. “I hate to spoil this moment, but perhaps we ought to freshen up and unbar the door? Someone’s likely to check on us.”

“We were rather loud…” The warrior nodded in agreement, before a smirk then crossed her face, and she teasingly poked him in the ribs. “Then I suppose now they’ve found out that you like it in the arse?”

  
“No, not really,” Haurchefant shrugged with the utmost causality, “They knew that already.”


	2. Unity (F!WoL/Vidofnir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Source for prompt here: https://ff14kink.dreamwidth.org/460.html?thread=49356#cmt49356
> 
> "vidofnir/WoL, soft vore  
> (Anonymous)  
> 2016-04-03 06:12 am (UTC)(link)  
> f/f preferably but vore knows no gender
> 
> maybe it's a ceremonial thing to symbolise unity between ishgard and dravania, maybe it's purely recreational, however it happens i just want wol to get swallowed and have a blast"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first and probably only attempt at writing vore. Don't judge too hard.

Another ceremony to demonstrate peace between man and dragon, this time held in Anyx Trine. A far smaller amount of humans than there were at the peace conference; only Aymeric, Lucia, Alphinaud, and Tataru. The only thing that a fully-recovered Vidofnir had told them was that the ritual was a celebration of the love and merging of Hraesvelgr and Shiva, and that it would require a young woman to complete. The Warrior of Light volunteered for this; before even being asked, Alphinaud noted with amusement. Though she was not Ishgardian and had not a drop of Ratatoskr’s blood within her, the adventurer still held the subject of Shiva close to her heart, for reasons everyone knew all too well, and wouldn’t let anyone else play the role. And so the dragon acquiesced, and took her to a secluded room in the tower and instructed her on what would be required of her. And hearing this almost made her want to back out, but she wouldn’t.  
  
And now the Warrior stood before Vidofnir, completely divested of clothing and feeling all eyes upon her, both human and Dravanian; the company made up of the former seemed far more concerned than the latter. Around them, smaller dragons ignited bowls of incense, filling the room with a powerful, invigorating scent. The daughter of Hraesvelgr nodded, indicating that all had been done correctly so far. Finally she addressed the naked woman who would play her Shiva, and her alone.  
  
' _Art thou truly ready, friend of Ysayle?'_  
  
“A-as I’ll ever be.” The stammer in her voice is all too audible.  
  
“ _There still remains a measure of fear in thee…_ ’ Vidofnir stared into the warrior for a long moment, before leaning down closer to her eye level. ‘ _Mayhaps some manner of preamble shall prove comforting. Pray lie down?_ ”  
  
The adventurer felt her face burning, but dutifully obeyed, forcefully keeping down all her apprehension as Vidofnir’s massive face loomed over her body, breath hot against her bare skin; the dragon opened her mouth, and with unexpected delicacy, slowly draws the tip of her tongue along her shoulder and neck. And she repeated the process, slightly harder this time, licking the woman and coating her in thick, warm saliva; and all the while whispering into her partner’s mind, guiding her through the ritual. To the warrior, the sensation began as overwhelming, but soon felt oddly… pleasant, even arousing. She’d not expected the dragon to have any knowledge of how to pleasure a member of the mortal races, but Vidofnir treated her as intimately as a lover would, and she began to moan in sheer gratification. She soon forgot the audience looking on in wonder, and began to reciprocate the dragon, sitting up and stroking and kissing her scaly muzzle as she prepared her. The adventurer soon felt completely secure as the dravanian’s hot, oversized tongue ran over every ilm of her body; her face, her back, her breasts, her feet, her legs--  
  
“ **Ahhh!** ”  
  
A blissful keening filled the room when the wet tongue grazed the adventurer’s loins. Her mind’s voice begged Vidofnir to linger there, and she silently agreed. She bucked her hips, rubbing her clit against the slick, ever-so-slightly abrasive tongue; and the dravanian took it one step further, pressing the appendage into her entrance. Moaning even louder than before, the woman was consumed by a wild ecstasy as Vidofnir lapped her up from within, reaching deep inside her that nothing could reach before. And finally the warrior heard her lover’s voice inside her head:  
  
‘ _Thou art ready. Have care a moment, hold onto mine muzzle, and stay still…_ ’  
  
Careful to avoid her sharp fangs, the woman did as told, entrusting her safety completely to Vidofnir as the tongue within her curled upwards, so deep within that her body was lifted up off the floor and into the dragon’s wide-open maw. She was just small enough to fit inside comfortably, and the tongue resumed fucking her. As she panted the air she breathed was hot and musty, and the intensity of the heat both within and without her finally caused the Warrior of Light to hit her climax. The dragon’s tongue withdrew from the woman’s body, and slid under her. Though dazed from the humidity and her orgasm, she stared down into her lover’s waiting gullet.  
  
“This is it…” she murmured to herself.  
  
Vidofnir spoke up once again for all present to hear: “ ** _Join with me, dear mortal…_** ”

And she completed the second half of the line: “ **… That we might never be apart!** ”  
  
And the adventurer braced herself and took a deep breath as Vidofnir closed her jaws, raised her head, and swallowed. Immediately the powerful muscles in the dragon’s throat took hold and pulled her feet-first downwards. She had survived being devoured before, by ferocious plant-like monsters and three-headed voidsent beasts. But she’d never wanted it to happen, and she only survived and escaped through force. She’d never been _willingly eaten_. And she never thought she’d willingly subject herself to the sensation of descending down the painfully tight, constricting esophagus of a dragon. For a mercy, Vidofnir’s saliva coating made the trip down faster than she’d anticipated until finally she popped out and slid into the dravanian’s stomach. Getting her bearings in the damp, dark space, the first thing she noticed was the liquid that reached her waist while sitting down; obviously the digestive fluid. Under any other circumstances she’d be terrified… but they had worked out a plan.  
  
Before the ritual began, Vidofnir told the Warrior that dragons did not digest their food into waste; instead what they ate became aether that sustained them through long years. This was what Shiva meant when asking Hraesvelgr to ‘consume her,’ in that they would be together forever through the merging of their aether. But this was obviously not what Vidofnir intended to happen to the adventurer, so they came to an agreement that this joining between them would be merely symbolic, and she would regurgitate the Warrior before any ill effects could befall her. Though she also didn’t ask how long she had to remain inside the dragon for it to be ‘symbolic’. In the meantime, she felt around inside; Vidofnir’s stomach wasn’t so spacious that she could stand at full height, so the adventurer sat down near the entrance, running her fingers along the stomach lining, (frowning when she felt a scar from where Estinien’s Gae Bolg had pierced her) and eventually settling against the wall and nuzzling it as if with a lover.  
  
‘ _Thou art curious to study my innards, child?_ ’  
  
Hearing the dragon’s voice inside her head once again caused the woman to jolt up. “J-just passing time! How long am I to be kept in here?”  
  
‘ _Fear not, little one, it shall take far longer than this for thee to lose thy essence. Thou needst only say the word, and I shall expel thee. Still, perhaps it ought be soon; thy comrades are quite distressed on thine behalf._ ’ And indeed, from outside, she could hear a heavily muffled clamouring of voices; Alphinaud, Tataru, Lucia, and Aymeric clearly did not expect the ritual to involve the Warrior of Light being eaten. ‘ _I have reassured them that thou art in no danger, but I fear they’ll not be wholly convinced until they see thee returned._ ’  
  
“Perhaps that would be best. It is a bit tough to breathe in here.”  
  
‘ _Very well. Brace thyself…_ ’  
  
The next thing the woman knew, the esophagus reopened and a rush of air shoved her back into it; the trip upwards was even faster than the trip down, and the warrior was soon forced out of Vidofnir’s mouth and landing on top of something leathery and smooth; her wings, folded forward into a net. Taking gulps of fresh air, she opened her eyes to see the ruby-red gaze of her lover, and with a smile, she reached up and affectionately stroked the dragon’s muzzle.  
  
The adventurer was then lowered onto the floor, where Alphinaud, Tataru, Lucia, and Aymeric were all waiting to check on her. As always, her fellow Scions were the first to rush to her side.  
  
Alphinaud knelt down over her, visibly agitated, and asked, “Are you alright?! Please, say something!”  
  
And Tataru cried, at the same time, “Do you need anything? Some water? A-a bath? Fresh clothes…?”  
  
“Nnngh… Yes yes, Tataru, Alphinaud, I’m alright.” Covered in slimy dravanian saliva and stomach acid, and quite tired, but otherwise none the worse for wear; in fact, she felt rather at peace. “Right now, I just need to breathe a moment… Thanks for worrying about me.”  
  
Alphinaud nodded and drew back, uncomfortable to continue looking at his friend in such a state. Though she reassured him about her well-being, he was clearly still shaken, holding his temples as if suffering a headache. “Ysayle did speak of Shiva’s being consumed by Hraesvelgr, but I-I’d not presumed it to mean that he _literally_ … Gods preserve, how could-- I can’t--! E-excuse me, I-I fear I must needs lie down…” Watching the boy trundle off, the adventurer feared that poor Alphinaud might wind up carrying a few mental scars after watching this ritual. Neither watching nor participating was for the faint of heart.  
  
“I-I’ve always been terrified of getting eaten alive. Is that how Dravanians express affections…?” Tataru muttered to herself and shivered, and drew several steps closer to the two knights.  
  
Aymeric and Lucia had been stunned quite speechless for some time, but the former spoke up in the most diplomatic, level-headed voice he could presently manage. “P-pray-- _Ahem_. Pray forgive me my outburst, daughter of Hraesvelgr. This ritual was a show of unity for the sake of peace, but none of us had expected it to entail such a show of… of… _Intimacy_. Altogether different from our customs, and I jumped to conclusions, thinking you intended to cause harm to my friend. T‘will not happen again.”  
  
“ _No need for apologies, son of Thordan_ ,” Vidofnir nodded, lowering her head to the floor, curling her neck so the resting adventurer could nestle into it. “ _Should a ceremony such as this happen again, I shall provide sufficient forewarning the next time._ ”  
  
“Next time,” Aymeric repeated, sounding ever-so-slightly apprehensive at the idea of witnessing this voracious ritual again. “And I suppose, given that the Warrior of Light seemed to, ah, quite enjoy playing the part of Shiva, should we expect her to do so once again…?”  
  
At this, the woman thought for a moment… Then glanced at Vidofnir and finally smiled, snuggling closer against the dragon’s neck.  
  
“Yes, I think I will.”


	3. Mog Fever- Part One (F!WoL/Ysayle)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt taken from here: https://ff14kink.dreamwidth.org/460.html?thread=91596#cmt91596
> 
> "  
> any/any, SEX POLLEN  
> (Anonymous)  
> 2016-05-04 01:24 am (UTC)(link)  
> please . ples
> 
> it can be a unique status effect, crafting recipe gone wrong, one or both parties can be affected, go wild. just as long as the people involved are lucid enough to make the informed decision to consent to a needy, frantic, biologically driven instinct to Fucc
> 
> m/m or f/f preferred! i'm partial to mWoL/thancred and fWoL/y'shtola + fWoL/ysayle but follow your kinky lil heart"

“ ** _AAAAACK!_** ”

A scream rang out through the underground level of Moghome, followed by a fit of loud, uncontrollable coughing. Alphinaud, Estinien, and Ysayle recognized the voice as the Warrior of Light, Rahela, and all ran in the direction from which they heard her. And there she was, flat on her back at the base of a massive, newly-opened flower, holding her stomach and coughing like she was about to hack up a hairball, or even a whole lung.

Alphinaud rushed to kneel at his friend’s side, his expression and voice on the verge of panic. “Rahela! Are you hurt?!”

Estinien, meanwhile, noticed a dusty powder that clouded the air. “What is this dust? It tingles the nose…”

“Nnngh…” Rah opened her mouth and let out another wave of coughs. “I slipped on some loose dirt, and ran into this strange flower--” Another cough. “And it’s pollen just… exploded on me. It feels so, so… Warm.” All of a sudden, her face flushed a deep crimson, and she began to breathe heavily, her whole body tensing and her fists clenching, feeling as if her blood was turning to fire.

Ysayle wasted no time, kneeling down and scooping the smaller woman off the ground in a threshold carry. “Worry not, my friend, we’ll find help for you,” she murmured into the adventurer’s cat-like ear, stroking a thumb against her striped cheek. It was intended as a comforting gesture, and yet… At that moment, the sensation in Rahela’s body began to change; her mind seemed to blur, and she could not explain why, but she was overtaken by an increasingly intense need to be beside the silver-haired woman. To be close to her, so close that not even clothing would separate them. Looking up to her with bleary eyes, forgetting all else, she raised an ungloved hand and slowly, she touched her fingertips to the other woman’s exposed skin, about to slide them under her robes…

“Oh, kupo, that’s not good, not good at all…”

At that moment, a high-pitched voice pulled the black mage back to reality. Moghan the moogle alchemist fluttered up and examined the miqo’te. He seemed to know what the problem was right away, and he flapped his little arms nervously, his pom wiggling.

This only alarmed the young arcanist further. Alphinaud cried out, “What? What is the matter with her?”

“W-well, uh…” Moghan twiddled his little paws nervously. “This is rather awkward to explain, kupo, but that pollen that exploded on her is…”

Estinien’s already-limited patience was now spent, and he grabbed Moghan by the scruff, yelling, “Out with it, rodent!”

“We use that pollen in our yearly mating rituals, kupo! It’s supposed to get lady moogles ready to have mooglets!”

Dead silence. No one was sure if they heard the moogle correctly, and they didn’t dare ask him to repeat it. Moghan went on, “I-It’s supposed to increase libido and fertility; the effects aren’t harmful, but really, really distracting. And it’s never been tested on a landlord, kupo…”

“Is there, is there any way to cure it?” Rahela asked, through watery eyes and a hoarse voice. “M-maybe just, throw a tub of cold water on me?”

“I’m afraid not, kupo,” Moghan said, shaking his pom. “This flower’s pollen, once it’s in your system, there’s only two options. The first is to just wait it out. It does eventually wear off on its own, but not for several days, and the symptoms are strong, excruciatingly so. Not very fun, and I believe you lot are on a tight schedule to meet with Lord Hraesvelgr.”

“He’s right. We can’t afford to waste any more time than we have already. What’s the other option, then?” Estinien asked, with a frown.

“Someone’s going to need to mate with her, kupo.”

Rahela let out another whimper, wringing her hands together to keep them from traveling to more intimate places on herself or the woman carrying her. The dragoon’s eyes weren’t visible under his helm, but he was surely rolling them as he crossed his arms and groaned, “Why did I suspect that would be the case?”

“I shall do it.” With no trace of hesitance in her voice, Ysayle offered herself.

“Ysayle? A-are you certain?” Alphinaud’s face seemed almost as red as Rah’s, and his voice broke as he attempted to volunteer. “I-I mean, I’ve never-- But I could--”

The young elezen’s feeble, bashful objections were cut off by the Azure Dragoon’s far gruffer one. “And leave the Warrior of Light in a vulnerable state, alone with _you?_ I think not.”

Ysayle shook her head, shooting an accusatory glare towards Estinien as she addressed Moghan. “Alphinaud is too young, and the dragoon would be ungentle. I shall be the one to cure her. That is, if Rahela does not object?”

The adventurer could scarce believe what she was hearing. She wasn’t so quick to presume that the heretic was acting out of a reciprocation of the intense desire brought about by the pollen; she realized Ysayle probably only volunteered out of necessity. But the concern that she was showing for the afflicted warrior’s feelings, it only made Rah want to be with her all the more. In response to the question, she smiled, and murmured, “Please…?”

The elezen woman returned the smile with her own, beaming with a warmth that deeply contrasted with her former moniker, and nodded. “I will take care of you,” she spoke softly, and ruffled the miqo’te’s hair, drawing a shiver out of her.

Moghan nodded, his pom bobbing forward. “Alright, then it’s agreed. Better hurry, though, before her symptoms get stronger. I’ll arrange somewhere private for you two straight away, kupo!”


	4. Eternal Wind, Eternal Love- Part One (GN!WoL/G'raha Tia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Source for prompt is right here: https://ff14kink.dreamwidth.org/460.html?thread=77516#cmt77516
> 
> "WoL/G'raha Tia - farewell sex (spoilers for CT storyline)  
> (Anonymous)  
> 2016-04-25 09:56 am (UTC)(link)  
> (I only just finished the quests recently and didn't about know any of it so warning just in case?)
> 
> After the events of World of Darkness, when G'raha resolves to seal himself away with the tower the WoL is fairly upset about possibly never seeing him again and they have one last night together. I can see this as either romantic or casual friend attraction, preferably male miqo'te or very ambiguous WoL!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I still need to finish the WoL/Ysayle fill but this prompt was speaking to me.
> 
> Warning: There's no actual smut in this chapter, just the tear-jerking prologue to it.

“Farewell, my friends. I eagerly await a future born of your courage and the ancients’ wish.”

My eyes brimmed over with tears, prickling painfully as I watched him turn away and walk further into Syrcus Tower. The rest of us: Cid, Biggs, Wedge, Rammbroes, and myself, we watched from the threshold as the colossal, impassable doors-- the ones that troubled Cid for so long and required Unei and Doga to open-- began to slide shut, possibly to never open again, at least not within my lifetime.

And _he_ was trapping himself on the other side of them.

G’raha and I had become close over the past few months, investigating the Allagan ruins scattered across Mor Dhona. What a team we were: the Fellowship of NOAH, discovering the secrets of the Crystal Tower. And admittedly, I fell for him early on; his puckish humor and mannerisms made me laugh, even when I was on the receiving end of his pranks, I couldn’t stay angry with him. His was a sharp wit, a strong mind, and a good-natured heart, small wonder I was so drawn to him. But as time went on, when we discovered more and more of the Tower’s secrets, and more about how he related to them, G’raha began to change. It was subtle; smiling less often, frequently suffering headaches, and perhaps less subtly, growing more and more obsessed with learning the truth about his red eye. The arrival of Unei and Doga and the answers they brought with them had only made his remaining questions stronger. He once confided in me about how it was the source of much difficulty during his childhood, from confusion about why he was the only one of his brothers to possess it, to it being the cause of bullying from his peers. If I’d only known what learning the truth would do to him, and that he would someday have to leave because of it…

The reality of it finally hit me full force: once those doors closed, _I would never see him again_. All those times we stayed up all night together, sharing a cup of coffee in our tent in St. Coinach’s Find working by lantern light, comparing notes and poring over ancient texts only to fall asleep on each other just before dawn, piles of papers still sitting on our laps and our hands smeared with ink. All the times we fought alongside each other to repel the gigas and other monsters attacking the camp, and laughing as we patched each other up afterwards. Watching the sunset over Silvertear Lake from the top of the tallest spire we could find. We could never have any of that again. G’raha would be gone from my life like he was never there. As if absolutely nothing about about him ever mattered beyond being a container for Allagan blood.

Nothing about this was fair. I could feel a blinding rush of rage and grief, and a complete lack of willing to accept this. My teeth clenching, hand tremblings, tears dripping down my face, and my feet started to move of their own accord.

I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

“ ** _NO!_** ”

Turning off any sense of impulse control in my brain, and ignoring the shouts coming from the others, I charged forward just before the gap between the doors grew too narrow to pass. I heard them slam shut behind me, but at that moment, all I cared about was the man in front of me. Who had turned back to see the source of the clamor and was now more than a little irate to see I had locked myself in here with him.

“You _fool!”_ He bellowed, “What do you think you're doing?!”

I wasn't thinking at all. I sprinted to him, my footsteps echoing through the tower’s grand hall. Finally I threw my arms around him, half-tackling him in a tearful hug, burying my face in his shoulder. “I don't want you to leave!” I cried out, clutching at his shirt, refusing to let go. “I-I’m not letting some stupid ancient Allagan curse take you away. Please, Raha… I love you.”

G’raha stiffened, and he was silent for a long moment, but finally he wrapped his arms around me, and returned my hug. His voice is choked when he speaks again. “You… You must understand… There is no other option if we are to prevent another calamity like the earthquake that destroyed Allag. This is for the preservation of the realm.” He breaks the hug to look at me. “Truly I am sorry; but you of all people should understand… This is the final wish of my ancestors.”

Looking into his eyes, the sorrow in them is genuine. But I hate seeing those inhuman red irises, the bloody hue that shaped his life as soon as it began, that consumed him and everything he was, taking away his right to choose his own destiny, and now it was taking him away from me. Reaching up to cup his cheek, I stroke with my thumb under the eye that used to be a beautiful, playful teal. “I don't care about Allag or the Ancients or anything like that. I care about _you._ You, G’raha Tia, the Student of Baldesion historian and marksman who challenged me to a race to get some silly aethersand in the middle of the most dangerous parts of the Black Shroud only so he could give it back on a whim. The one who was always excited to make new discoveries and venture into the unknown, who decided on the name NOAH all on his own and wouldn't stop complaining when Cid wouldn’t let him go into the Labyrinth with me. Is he still in there somewhere? What is it that _he_ wants…?”

The miqo'te goes silent for several more seconds. He places his own hand over mine and leans into my touch, reflecting on my words. But finally he returns his gaze to me, and in answer to my question, he pulls me in by the shoulders and crushes his lips against mine. I’m shocked for a brief moment, but I return his kiss, fighting back a new wave of tears. His mouth is so soft, his skin so warm, his arms so comforting, and even as he separates from me again, he rests his forehead against mine. “I… I'm still here. And I love you too. Every hour, minute, and second we’ve spent together is time that I will treasure forever. Though the idea of never seeing you again is a knife in my heart, to choose the alternative is unthinkable. I wish it didn’t have to be this way. As much as it hurts, this is more important than what either of us want.”

Every word I want to say dies in my throat. He’s right. Either G’raha puts himself to sleep with the Tower, or all Eorzea would be split apart and decimated. Realizing this, my shoulders sag and I slump forward, his arms the only thing still holding me up. He was resigned to his fate, and I should have been, too; now all my childish stubbornness has done is cause him more pain. It’s then that he runs his fingers through my hair and says, “But… You deserve a better goodbye than what I was trying to give you. If you wish it, then we could spend one last night together, only the two of us.”

I looked back up at the scholar to see if I heard him correctly, and he’s smiling at me. Solely for my sake, G’raha would be willing to put off shutting down the Tower for one more night, just so he could spend it with me…? Of course I couldn’t say no. This time I’m the one who kisses him, and it signals the beginning of our last night together.  
  
I intend to make every second count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I'm slightly sad and bitter about how the Crystal Tower series ended. I will eat my PS4 if G'raha Tia isn't one of the most goddamn tragic characters in this entire game.


	5. Close to You (GN!WoL/Haurchefant)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt here: https://ff14kink.dreamwidth.org/460.html?thread=6604#cmt6604
> 
> "WoL/Haurchefant  
> (Anonymous)  
> 2016-03-15 01:33 am (UTC)(link)  
> Gender doesn't matter. Fluffy stuff between Warrior of Light and Haurchefant, post and/or during sex. I just want to see them be happy together before.. u kno.. ;;"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only fluff this time, but still dubiously SFW since there's the aftermath of smut, and the gender-neutral WoL is naked throughout all this.

“Good morning, my dearest. Are you ready to wake up now…?”

You awake to a familiar, lilting voice cooing to you, and a gentle hand brushing your hair out of your face. Immediately remembering where you are, what happened last night, and who was with you, you smile to yourself. You feel him sitting on the side of the bed next to you, trying to nudge you awake. Haurchefant can try all he wants, but it’s your first morning in Ishgard and this is the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept you’ve ever had the pleasure of sleeping in in your entire life, the silken sheets and heavy velvet duvet feel sublimely smooth and cool against your bare skin, and he of all people should know how your body might still be tired after last night’s _exertions_ …

“I understand your desire to stay in bed,” he chuckles, “but your breakfast is getting cold.”

Breakfast in bed? Immediately your eyes snap open and you push yourself into a sitting position and then immediately _shivering_ when the cold morning air hits your skin. Haurchefant smiles, “Ha, I thought that might get your attention,” and sets the tray table full of food that he’d carried in down in front of you. “You slept through breakfast, but I managed to convince the chefs to prepare something for you. I hope it’s to your liking?”

By the gods, it is. Your stomach growls for satisfaction just looking at it. An Ishgardian muffin, an almond cream croissant, a dodo-egg omelette, and a cup of tea, all piping warm and ready for you. Without a second thought, you tear your breakfast like a wild beast devouring prey. You were by no means an upper-class citizen of any city-state, nor did you behave like one, but if having consistent access to this much food of this delicious decadent quality was what it meant to be part of high society, you could certainly get used to it. Audible just over your loud chewing is another laugh from Haurchefant. “I shall take that as a yes, then.”

He sits himself down on the foot of the bed, content to watch you less-than-gracefully gorge yourself. You must look a mess, in a state of undress, a head of wild bed hair, and smelling of sweat, all consequences from the night before. But even though he’s looking far more clean and stately than usual, wearing a long-sleeved doublet and breeches instead of his usual armor, he doesn’t mind how you look in the slightest, smiling warmly at you, with the hint of a blush on his face.

It occurs to you, as you’re swallowing a creamy, flaky mouthful of croissant, that you don’t know the time; late enough for you to miss breakfast but still early enough that Alphinaud and Tataru haven’t come to check on you. Glancing at the walls, you see a wall chronometer that tells the current time as a single bell before noon. Huh. If you slept in this late, then what’s your knight friend still doing here? You remember him saying last night that he wasn’t bound to return to Dragonhead until morning. And you were actually quite relieved at that; these past few weeks, his support, his kindness, his constant presence, it all meant more than you could say, and you didn’t want him to leave. And last night, you told him all of this. You told him more than you probably should have. You poured your heart out to him, and frankly you feel a bit embarrassed to remember some of the more sentimental things that left your mouth. But Haurchefant, he was breathtaken. And he reciprocated. _Good gods, did he reciprocate you_. And now, here you both were. But you understood he’d have to return to his duties in the morning and leave you behind, and you’re slightly curious as to why he’s still here; so once you wash down the last of your muffin with a sip of tea, you ask him.

“Y-yes, well,” He seems almost sheepish at the question, rubbing the back of his neck, standing back up. “That was indeed the plan. But this infernal weather had plans of its own, I’m afraid.” To show you what he meant, the knight pulls back the curtain, and you have to squint your eyes against the blindingly bright opaque whiteness glaring through the window. Putting the curtain back into place and returning to his previous seat, he continues, “So my return to the Central Highlands, or indeed any ventures outdoors, will have to be delayed. I trust my subordinates to keep things running smoothly in the camp without me, but I still can’t help but feel concerned for them…”

He falls silent, electing to let you eat in peace. You hesitate a moment, but once you finish the last bite of the omelette, you set the breakfast tray down on the floor, and pat the empty space on the bed next to you. Haurchefant responds like a puppy coming when called, taking the invitation and cuddling up next to you; and you nestle into the crook of his arm, barely stifling a ticklish giggle as he decides to start peppering you with kisses and light touches anywhere he can reach. With a warm and wide grin, he tucks your body against him (you’re still under the duvet, though, so the contact isn’t as direct as you would like.) and nuzzles your foreheads together. And you close what little is left of the distance by clasping your hands behind his neck and laying a quick kiss upon his lips.

“Thank you for the breakfast,” you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. “And for last night. I really needed both.”

“Ah… Do forgive me if my actions were too forward. As I said last night, I’ve harbored feelings for you for quite some time; and to know that you felt the same way, I was so overjoyed, I-I had… Forgotten myself.”

You shake your head. “There’s nothing to forgive,” you tell him. “And I’d would welcome any sort of nasty scandalous rumor about our relationship, any rumor about me that doesn’t involve regicide would be a welcome respite.” Haurchefant likely had some sort of response to this, but you silence him (and hopefully his worries) with a reaffirming kiss on the lips. This appears to have the intended effect, and the knight smiles into the kiss, gently caressing your bare back.

“I love you. How I wish I could stay with you wherever you go,” he breathes into your ear once the kiss is broken. “And, erm, may I say something rather personal?”

You nod, keeping your eyes upon his face, paying the utmost attention. Haurchefant’s expression changed to an uncharacteristic melancholy, and he leans back against the headboard, eyes gazing off into some invisible memory.

“Proud as I am to serve my homeland, there has ever been a part of me that wished to roam, to adventure. During my boyhood, I would frequently go out and spend all day traversing and exploring all Coerthas, and… And on some days, I didn’t want to go back. But after my knighting, and especially after the Calamity and the coming of the endless winter, things had to change. No longer could I be the child who would run away whenever the urge struck him, who would always, _always_ rather be _‘anywhere but here’_ …”

He’s never told you any of this. You’re both shocked and touched that he’s willing to share this with you. Perhaps it was because of all that you shared with him last night, but all the same, you keep listening.

“…Or so I told myself,” He continued, with a shrug. “I could never truly bury that part of me who yearned to see beyond the peaks of Abalathia or beyond the treetops of the Shroud. Part of that was why I felt so drawn to adventurers, and to you. I’d never be so irresponsible as to abandon my post, but oftentimes during a dull moment I turn my thoughts to fantasizing about what it would be like to journey with you. To journey to the four corners of the realm; the verdant valleys in the west, the glimmering shores of Costa del Sol, the shifting sands of Ul--” He catches himself, and both of you grimace. “On second thought, no, _not_ Ul’dah…”

You shake your head in agreement. “Yeah. But what you were saying before, about wanting to journey with me?”

“I know it’s unlikely, if not outright impossible--”

“No, no, I’d love it!” You clasp his hands in yours, grinning broadly at him. “I’d love to go on an adventure with you! Maybe we could even elope!”

At your last word, Haurchefant jerks in surprise, and his face goes bright red. “Wh-what?! _Elope?!_ ”

You’d made the suggestion completely on impulse, and now that you think about it, it does sound rash in the extreme, especially when the two of you had only confessed your feelings to each other last night; you feel your cheeks heating up as well. “Er, ah, I-I mean… Eventually. After we’ve really gotten to know each other some more.” _What are you saying?_ “I… I love you. Spending time with you, feeling safe with you… So I wish we could always be together, and that our duties didn’t have to get in the way.”

What an idyllic life you imagined. To run away with the man you love and have an adventurer-style bonding ceremony at the Sanctum of the Twelve. And from there? There would be no boundaries to where you could go: roaming the entire world together, both of you free from any responsibility or obligations. No primals, no dragons, no corruption, no loss, no sorrow. Just you showing him the world beyond the cold climes of Coerthas just like he’d always dreamed. The only thing you would need was each other. You knew such a fantasy was childish and unrealistic, but you still entertained it nonetheless. Up until last night, the idea that someone would love you the way he did was just as unattainable a notion.

So lost in your thoughts, you barely notice Haurchefant moving until he puts his left hand on your right shoulder; but when you reflexively turn your head to face him, your cheek instead runs into his extended index finger.

You can almost hear the ‘ _doink._ ’

The knight breaks into a fit of giggles while squishing your cheeks and cooing over how ‘cute’ you are. Though burning with embarrassment over falling for such a silly trick, with the way he’s nuzzling your noses together and kissing everywhere on your face, you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed by _this ridiculous man…_

“Ahhh, I’m sorry, love,” he said in between breaths of laughter. “I just couldn’t resist.” Finally Haurchefant let you go, leaving one last little peck on your brow. “But in all seriousness, you don’t have to worry about us having to spend less time together. I shall certainly miss you and your comrades once I return to Camp Dragonhead, but that’s no cause for sorrow! It will only make the happy moments that we do have all the more precious. I know I’ll treasure these moments with for as long as I live.”

Listening to your lover’s worldly wisdom, you wonder how much of this he knew from personal experience. But all the same, he was right. Though you would have to spend some time apart, that would only make your next reunion all the more joyful. You smile, and lay an appreciative kiss upon Haurchefant’s velvety lips, and feel their corners curl up. But before anything else happens, you want to make one thing clear, whispering into his ear:

“Well, we’ve got until the storm subsides. Let’s not waste this morning.”

He smiles.


	6. Song of Silence, Dance Amidst Death (Lahabrea/Igeyorhm)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SFW. Original prompt @: https://ffxiv-kink-meme.dreamwidth.org/298.html?thread=30506#cmt30506
> 
> "Igeyorhm/Lahabrea  
> [personal profile] igeyorhm  
> 2016-06-25 11:04 pm (UTC)(link)  
> Please.
> 
> I just want them to be happy and satisfied together. I don't care if it's sexual or not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first saw this prompt, the first reaction that popped into my brain was, 'What would an Ascian ever have to be happy or satisfied about?' Then inspiration struck and I answered my own question.
> 
> Also riddled with headcanons about the War of the Magi and how the Ascians operate.

_Six down, seven to go_.

A deathly war, fought with the most powerful magicks man had ever known. Voidsent roamed free and supped upon the souls of the innocent. Chaos reigned as each city-state rained down destructive power upon each other, power to rival that of the gods. In recent years the most recent conflict had reached its climax. With half of Nym’s population and nearly all the Scholars transformed to piteous green beasts by Mhachi trickery, the city was defenseless against the Yafaemi’s hammer that would put the final nail in their coffin: their greatest and most powerful weapon, Ozma, demolishing everything in sight and devouring every stone and soul caught in its pull. Amdapor managed to hold on against them for a time, using White Magic to defend against Black. But it made no difference in the end: the Elementals of the Black Shroud, through their rage at the destruction of their home, brought forth the being Oha-Sok, who then brought about a great deluge to “cleanse the land of its taint,” and rain and sea swallowed all. Thus ended the War of the Magi. Screaming and then silence.

Lahabrea stood upon the surface of the water, looking out over what appeared to be a vast ocean, but beneath his feet was what little remained of all Vylbrand. The only part to not be completely submerged was the summit of the volcano, peeking out just to the left of the Ascian’s field of vision. All the world was still, quiet as the death that surrounded him, almost all sound quite literally drowned out.

“Another Rejoining come and gone.” The silence was broken by a familiar voice: that of Igeyorhm, slowly approaching from behind, her footsteps making small ripples. “We take yet another step towards our final goal.”

To hear it said aloud, Lahabrea could not help but break into a grin. “Yes, and our master shall be freed once more!” He gesticulated wildly as he spoke of Zodiark, raising his arms towards his Lord's weakening lunar prison. “But truly, this Rejoining was perhaps the most satisfying event I’ve beheld in eons. An entire war, waged by puppets doing our bidding! Mhach played their part beautifully, accepting all the knowledge we gave them, and spreading death and distrust and chaos everywhere. I’ve not seen their like since Allag!”

“Bitoso and the Tonberry plague, magicks to bind voidsent to their will, the means to construct Ozma…” Igeyorhm mentally went through the list of the boons they provided to the void mages, which they had readily received and used. But it was all for a purpose: Mhach was ensuring its own destruction as surely as it was ensuring its enemies’, just as Allag had done 3,500 years ago. However, something was out-of-place to her. Looking up to the western sky, hovering above the setting sun was an airborne vessel, appearing at this distance as glowing purple speck. This she was not so sure about. “Though, why did Deudalaphon assist the Mhachi in the construction of their ‘Void Ark’?”

“You understand as well as any the manner in which Lord Zodiark’s will must be carried out, Igeyorhm. Each Rejoining, no matter how apocalyptic, must have at least some handful of survivors to bring about the next. And the constructs that the previous worlds left behind will no doubt play a part.” Lahabrea gestured upwards to the sky, in a different direction from the Void Ark; Dalamud gleamed red above their heads, slumbering still, its prisoner yet waiting for the day to wreak fiery vengeance against the world of his captors. “How entertaining it is to watch the surviving vermin attempt to piece their pathetic lives back together, and to watch them despair as we shatter them all over again!” He let out a cold, cruel laugh at the hopeless, endless plight of mortals, cursed to have their lives shattered time and time again.

“Mhach, Amdapor, and Nym. The waters will recede, and there will be survivors from each city-state. Though it may take generations, the next civilizations shall form. Thus does the cycle of chaos continue.”

“But for now, we are to bide our time until when we may once again sow the seeds of discord among the next budding civilization. We nurture them with knowledge, influence their leaders, help them grow… Until we cause it all to crumble beneath their feet. I can scarce wait!” Lahabrea loudly cackled once more. Like a child playing with wooden blocks, stacking them to create a tower, only to gleefully knock it down and start all over; some could say that that’s all the Ascians were, in essence. “But looking at the glorious nothingness before us, all I wish is to simply revel in our handiwork! This feeling is quite peculiar, what’s the word to describe it… I feel… giddy. Yes that’s the word, giddy! Like dancing!”

“… _Giddy_. Like _dancing_.” Igeyorhm repeated flatly, scarce able to believe what she had just heard.  “Lahabrea, you sound like some nitwit from the Spoken races. Our kind do not process emotions as can be likened to them. You _know this_.”

This did not seem to deter him. He raised his arms to the sky and spun around to face her, his movements exuding pure bliss. “Ah, but can you not hear the sweet music in the air?”

Igeyorhm quirked her brow, and listened carefully to detect any signs of some sort of ambiance. She couldn’t hear much; only the gentle sloshing of water over dead bodies and debris bobbing lazily through the currents. After a moment, she responded, “I believe the closest approximation to what I hear is the sound of drowned mortals.”

“Yes, and is it not marvelous?” He whirled in midair, wearing a smile that a mortal might almost call genuinely joyful. Then disappearing from view, he then reappeared, intimately close to his compatriot, and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Dance with me, Igeyorhm.”

"I beg your pardon?!"

"We've some time before Elidibus calls us to discuss the next course of action." Lahabrea took hold of her hand, clasping her fingers within his; he gazed into her masked face with a cocky sneer, knowing that if she was going to say no, she'd have warped out of his grasp already. "Is the thought of sharing a mere few minutes of that in close contact with me such a wretched prospect?"

Igeyorhm was so taken aback by his brazenness that she was unable to answer him, not even to reject him. She hesitated, reflecting for a moment, before finally she gave her answer, placing her free hand on his shoulder: "…Very well."

The Martyr and the Abyssal Celebrant, intertwined in a waltz, hovering some ilms above the water. Twirling together in the air, their feet touched nothing. And yet they stepped, they spun, they pivoted, they dipped, gracefully hanging above the corpses of the countless victims of their machinations. The moon hung high in the deep azure evening skies, stars beginning to peek through the atmosphere, the last pitiful vestiges of sunlight were slipping away. The dusk of the Fifth Sun.

These actions of physical closeness and moving in tandem, a mortal could mistake it for being affectionate. Romantic, even. But Ascians had no concept of such feelings; this, and every other emotion an Ascian possessed, was ultimately derived from a complete, all-consuming devotion to Zodiark and a contempt for Hydaelyn and all of her creations. This dance was to celebrate His victory and Her defeat, and to every future Umbral Era.

A pause in their dance, Lahabrea and Igeyorhm watched this with satisfied smiles. The Sixth Moon was rising, and they continued to waltz under their dark master's gaze.

He would be freed. All in good time.


	7. Linkpearl Booty Call- Prologue (F!WoL/Minfilia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wound up deciding to take up one of my own prompts: https://ffxiv-kink-meme.dreamwidth.org/298.html?thread=9258#cmt9258
> 
> "Minfilia/Female Warrior of Light, Linkpearl booty call  
> (Anonymous)  
> 2016-05-18 03:30 pm (UTC)(link)  
> You're not surprised when your linkpearl rings and it's Minfilia on the other end. What does surprise you is that she's in Ul'dah on business, that she's calling you from the Hourglass Inn, and that she could use some company for the night…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I changed a few things, but it's no biggie. It's set early in the post-2.0 MSQ, and Minfilia and a racially-ambiguous female Warrior of Light are in a pre-established relationship and they are very very happy and gay. Like, REALLY gay. It's wonderful.
> 
> (This section also features oodles of Minfilia appreciation, including satires of her detractors. I have no regrets.)

Your adventuring comrades always complained whenever Minfilia called you, saying that she should just say whatever she needs to over the linkpearl instead of calling you back to headquarters. You never listened to them; you don’t mind taking the time to go to mission briefings. Extensive linkpearl calls revealing sensitive information could be overheard, disrupted, or interfered with, which you learned all too well in your battles and subterfuge against the Garleans. And now that the Scions had moved their base to only a few steps away from an aetheryte, you saw nothing to complain about.

Besides, some things just couldn’t be communicated with voice alone; things like facial expressions, body language, gestures, touches, _kisses_ …

“ _Oi!_ Ye’ve got a weird look on yer face again.”

A harsh voice snapped you out of your fantasies. You and your party had sat down at a table in the Quicksand, and were waiting for your orders of ale to arrive. The lalafellin man sitting to your left was staring at you, his expression alarmingly irate. In fact, all three of your comrades were staring at you.

You nervously look from face to face. “Er, what…?”

“That’s the third time today you did that,” the lalafell exclaims, shaking his fist at you. “Grinnin’ like an idjit, doin’ that lovesick sigh and starin’ at nothin’. Don’ think we don’ notice, O famous Warrior o’ Light!”

The duskwight woman sitting across from you giggled. Laying her chin atop steepled hands, she leaned forward and chirped in a teasingly faux-sweet voice, “Were you thinking about your squeeze again?”

Sputtering frantically at her (correct) guess, you retort, a bit too vigorously, “She’s not my _‘squeeze!’_ ” Honestly, you preferred more tasteful terms like ‘ _ladylove_ ’ or ‘ _paramour,_ ’ at any rate. “She’s my _boss._ ” Your boss whom you were in a relationship with.

“What I wanna know is, is she really as buxom as the rumors say? Have you felt them?” The lecherous midlander man sitting on your right looked far too excited to know the answer. “And does she really have a window cut into the back of her cape so’s you can see her arse? Have you felt that?”

“I _’m not having this conversation with you_ ,” You mumbled, burying your face in your hands, utterly mortified. He was actually correct on all counts, but that was far besides the point. Gods above, telling him that you were attracted only to other women was perhaps one of the worst decisions you’ve made in recent memory. (You hoped it would make him stop his advances towards you, but it only made him worse) “I respect Minfilia, and regard her as an excellent leader.”

“I’ll bet ye do,” The lalafell interjected again, putting on a taunting grin. “Ye’ll do anything the bint says, she’s got ye whipped! ‘Er lil’ Deliv’ry Girl O’ Light!”

“She does not--”

“Well, _I_ think it’s romantic. You’re like her knight in shining armor, ready to help her with anything, whether it’s serving her tea, moving crates upon her request, or rescuing her from whatever latest evil what’s kidnapped her!”

“That was _one time--!_ ”

“Tits like that, I wouldn’t say no to her either.”

“Shut _UP_.” You yell, slamming your hands on the table, the unexpected forcefulness causing your comrades to jump in surprise. “She and I _aren’t_ romantically involved, her body has _nothing_ to do with her earning the position as Antecedent, and I _definitely_ don’t wait on her hand and foot! So if you know what’s good for you, you’d better--!”

The threat is suddenly cut off by a buzzing sound in your pocket: the familiar ringing of your linkpearl. You’d take any excuse to get out of this conversation, so you immediately grab for it and hold it to your ear. “Yes-what-is-it!”

And on the other end, the beautiful, bell-clear voice that always sent your heart fluttering. “ _Good evening, Minfilia speaking_.”

“Hello, Minfilia.” You forced yourself to ignore the raucous laughter that burst from everyone else sitting at the table, but there was no fighting the blood rushing to your face. “Have you got a new mission for me?”

“ _Truth be told, no. May I ask where you are right now?_ ”

“Uh, I’m in Ul’dah, at the Quicksand. My party and I just got back from our daily dungeon diving. Why do you ask?”

“ _Ah, how fortuitous! Her Grace invited myself, the Admiral, and the Seedseer to discuss business over tea, but our meeting ran longer than expected, and now we’re staying the night in the royal palace’s guest chambers._ ”

“Oooh, lucky you! That sounds like quite the sleepover. Have fun!”

“ _Wait, I was thinking…_ ”

“Yes?”

“ _Would you like to attend as well?_ ”

“Huh?”

“ _I’m permitted to invite guests, and I suspect that spending the night in such luxurious quarters would do you some good._ ” You’re a bit dumbstruck; the offer sounds amazing by itself already, but there’s a loud question at the forefront of your mind, but wouldn’t dare ask in your present company. For a mercy, she answered your question without having to be asked: “ _You’d have the choice of staying in your own quarters, or perhaps we might share…?_ ”

“S-share, please!” You blurted out, hoping and praying to Hydaelyn that your companions wouldn’t glean anything from that.

While you couldn’t appropriately express your excitement, Minfilia did so for you, the joy palpable in her voice. “ _Wonderful! Then I shall let the guards know you’ll be arriving shortly. And one more thing: the guest chambers are labelled by the gemstones embedded on the door, so ask for the Ruby Chamber. I’ll be expecting you, darling._ ” She punctuated the term of endearment with a kissing sound, and the linkpearl went silent.

You’re left reeling, clutching your chest, desperately trying to keep yourself from melting into a metaphorical pile of goo at the overwhelming rush of affection. With an awed reverence, you whisper, “ _I have the cutest girlfriend in the realm._ ” But you’re returned to reality with the horrified realization that you said that aloud, in front of the people to whom you’d been protesting that Minfilia was _not_ your girlfriend, then finding yourself on the receiving end of three sets of knowing stares. You winced under their gaze, imagining the teasing you’d be prodded with…

… But it was at that precise moment that the Quicksand waitress came to your rescue by distracting your comrades, setting the table with the four flagons of ale that you ordered. But since you were more than ready to head out the door, you dig into your pockets and leave some of your gil on the table, including a generous tip, moving your portion of drink to the adventurer you were least annoyed with. “Here, Sofine, you can have my ale.”

While the duskwight cooed with delight at the extra alcohol, the lalafell stood up in his chair, yelling angrily at you “Where d’ ye think _yer_ goin’?”

“I have to report to the Royal Palace right away. The Antecedent has a mission of vital importance for me.”

“ ** _Wot kinda ‘venturer turns down grog for some glorified useless bimbo?!_** ”

“Did she invite you to a rendezvous? She did, didn’t she?! Can I watch?!”

“Ignore them! Out with you, to your lady fair’s side!”

You’ve already sprinted out the door into the warm Ul’dahn air, not even justifying them with a response. Why did you even form a party with those losers.

You found it far more appealing to imagine the immediate future: spending the night at the Royal Palace, in the lap of luxury, with your favorite woman in Eorzea upon your own lap. Perhaps you weren’t entirely right before, about the disadvantages of linkpearl communication. It definitely did have its merits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, sexytimes will come later.


	8. Mog Fever- Part Two (F!WoL/Ysayle)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, two lesbian chapters in a row, I'm on a roll! This is Part Two of the Sex Pollen prompt, and finally, some actual smut this chapter! This fill in particular wound up getting really long, and I had to split it up again. Don't worry, Part Three of Mog Fever will be the last. But without further ado, enjoy more smut.

Moghan led Ysayle and the afflicted Rahela to a small opening in the wall, the entrance to which was draped with vines. “Just head in through here to the mating cave. Sorry if the space is a touched cramped; it’s, ah, supposed to be for moogles only. But this is an emergency, kupo!”

Ysayle nodded to the moogle. Rahela, cradled within her arms, could barely see through the heady fog spreading through her mind, nor could she think clearly beyond how much she craved this beautiful, angelic ice goddess; the pulsing in her loins had grown unbearable, but she was still aware that the craving would be satisfied soon. Until then, she distracted herself planting gentle kisses and nips along the elezen’s neck and jawline. Through her blushing, Ysayle signaled to Moghan that he might want to leave before things got too heated, “Th-thank you, Moghan. I-I’m sure we manage it from here.”

“Alrighty, kupo. I’ll leave the both of you to it, then. And remember, the effects of the pollen only wear off once the afflicted person is thoroughly satisfied. I do realize that's pretty vague, but I'm sure you can do it!” Finally Moghan put up a sign above the opening, the untidy scrawl reading ‘DO NOT DISTURB,’ before fluttering off.

The elezen had to duck down onto her knees to enter the hole. Passing through the vines, she held tight onto Rahela, trying valiantly to not get distracted by the latter’s kisses and touches. The room at the end of the tunnel was more spacious than Moghan gave it credit for; not quite tall enough for Ysayle to stand at full height, but wide enough to contain an exceedingly fluffy bed of cloud mallow, large enough to fit both of them, resembling a smaller version of Chief Moglin’s fuzzy throne.

The miqo’te was placed upon the foot of the bed, her legs hanging off and spread apart with Ysayle standing between them. Rah lay still for but a moment, before looking up to the radiant, unspeakably alluring woman leaning over her, just visible in the cave’s pink bioluminescence. At that moment she was overcome with another wave of desire, and now that they were alone, there was no reason to hold back. Her hands lashed out to the nape of Ysayle’s neck to pull her down and capture her silvery lips in an open-mouthed kiss. Once she felt her lover returning the kiss, she shot her tongue out to explore the other woman's mouth, already losing herself in lust. Rah's hands slipped to the front of Ysayle’s blue robe and undid the clasp, letting it fall open. The silvery undershirt beneath had a diamond-shaped window cut into the front and Rahela took full advantage of it, breaking the kiss, her hands darting under the fabric and seizing her prize, pulling them free. The elezen gasped to feel Rahela kneading her breasts, hot mouth hungrily suckling and biting at a hard nipple, while pinching and tweaking the other. The mouth on her flesh released its grip with a kiss, and then switched to the opposite side, swirling her tongue over the bud. Listening to Ysayle’s soft moans, Rah purred in approval, knowing she was pleasing her.

“A-ah, hold on a moment longer,” Ysayle murmured to her, gently pushing her back down to the bed, prompting a disappointed whine. “We ought to at least disrobe first…”

That made sense, Rah thought. But she was impatient; the longer she waited, the more her mind descended into a feverish, lusty haze. So even when she started to pull off her boots, she got distracted, caught up in watching the radiant elezen shed her own clothes, ( _ gods above, those black pantalettes… _ ) exposing more and more of her sleek body, her silvery skin, until she was completely naked. 

The duskwight noticed the seeker’s eyes upon her, and her cheeks darkened with a blush. “Y-you're staring...” 

“Ysayle… You’re so beautiful.”

“I would say the same for you, yet I've noticed that you're still dressed. Here, if you'll permit me…” Without any prompting, Ysayle knelt to the ground and set about removing Rahela's gear herself. Starting with the boots, followed by gloves and jewelry; the black mage’s holy rainbow shirt was already mostly open save for an odd tangled cloth sash at the waist, but it came off easily, all clothes set aside next to the bed. It was Rahela's turn to let out soft moans; the effects of the pollen had heightened the sensitivity of her skin, and every time Ysayle trailed her fingertips across her skin, or left soft open-mouthed kisses in their wake, it left her in the sweetest agony, the wet fire within her stoked to blazing and craving more.

“Turn around?” The ice goddess’ voice whispered into a soft ear, and Rahela obeyed. Ysayle undid the black bra, and laid it aside with the rest of the discarded clothes. All that was left were her trousers, and the miqo'te could not be bothered to act subtle about wanting them gone too, leaning forward till she was on all fours, torso low to the bed, but backside and tail lifted high in the air. All she received was an amused chuckle, but still Rah was obliged, and her trousers and smallclothes were removed, the cold air against her moist entrance causing a shiver. She felt a weight settle just above her and Ysayle’s cool skin pressed against her back as her hands grasped Rah’s ample breasts and massaged them, her touch feeling like heaven. The heretic gently teased and tugged at stiff, rosy nipples, prompting a high-pitched mewl. “You may relax, Rahela,” Ysayle soothed. “As I said, I shall take care of you as best I can.”

“Please, please don't stop…!”

Ysayle laid a kiss in the crook of Rahela's neck, and moved away, hands grasping the miqo'te’s hips. Finally came the sensation that she was waiting for: the elezen’s tongue pressed against her vulva and drew upwards, lapping up her juices. She let out a loud moan, signalling, _ yes, this is what I want.  _ So Ysayle continued licking the tiny slit, periodically switching between that and suckling on the fleshy pink lips surrounding it. Rah was overcome, grabbing fistfuls of the cloud mallow and rocking forward and back against Ysayle's tongue, the pulsing pressure in her groin only building. Then she felt arms bracing her hips to hold her steady, and a hand reached around to massage the base of her tail. Once more she whimpered from the stimulation, the heat pulsing inside her compounded with her lover’s cooling touch caressing up and down her sides, from her backside to her shoulders and sometimes her breasts. Rahela whined aloud when Ysayle eventually pulled away.

“Turn over now?”

Whether that was a request, or a signal that Ysayle was going to turn Rah over so she'd lay on her back again, she wasn't sure. Either way, regardless of who did it, the miqo'te lay on her back now, legs spread apart and hanging off the side of the bed. Ysayle knelt between Rah's thighs and moved to resume her ministrations, kissing and kneading the skin on her way back to the core. Thumbs rubbed slowly against her folds, finally spreading them apart. Rahela realized what was coming a second before she felt the other woman’s lips close around her clit. She cried out, her back arched and her toes and tail curled, completely overwhelmed. Every sensation was magnified tenfold, and every swirl of Ysayle's tongue against the tiny bundle of nerve endings shot electrifying bolts of pleasure up her spine. The seeker’s hands flew down to grasp the other woman's head, holding her close. She, of course, had more in mind, and Rah nearly screamed at the intense feeling of two long, elezen fingers slipping deep into her sex. 

She was well and truly lost now, solely at the mercy of the heretic’s most welcome assault. Ysayle knew what she was doing, rhythmically applying pressure to Rah’s clit while thrusting her fingers inside, her entrance so wet that she slid in and out with startling ease. Her inner walls clenched around her fingers as they thrusted, scissored, and curled within her. At long last, with one curl of the fingers reaching just the right spot, she released the flood. Rahela came with a loud, long, drawn-out moan, arching her back and curling her tail, pressing her lover’s face into her core, grabbing fistfuls of silver hair, desperate to hold onto something as waves of pleasure rocked her body.

She must have passed out from the orgasm, or at least was too dizzy to pay attention to what was going on afterwards. Through the fog, Rahela heard a muffled voice calling her name, and felt gentle fingertips brushing her bangs out of her sweat-dampened face. Teal eyes finally fluttered open, and got a full view of Ysayle, leaning over her, looking somewhat concerned. “Rahela? Are you alright now?”

She was unsure of how to answer her bedmate; it was difficult to tell what specifically had to be done to remove the effects of the pollen. Was only one orgasm truly enough? And then she got her answer when another intense heat gripped her body, and the burning, pulsing ache in her loins returned, drawing out another whine. Definitely a ‘no.’

Then, if she strained her ears to listen, she heard Ysayle mumbling to herself some distance away. “I don't understand this… Perhaps we will need Estinien after all. But Moghan said the pollen increased fertility, and of course that increases the risk of his seed taking root… Should I just keep going? But if she’s this exhausted from just the one, how much more can she take…?”

Rahela was altogether unaware of what kind of effect that the pollen was having on her, but she knew what it made her want. What she craved with all her body was not only sexual satisfaction for herself, but also that of her partner. And Ysayle, the ice goddess whose beauty and body demanded worship, she’d had complete control over the situation, but had ignored her own pleasure, focused only on helping her. It wasn't relief… It was only intensifying the lust manifold. The miqo'te pushed herself up to a sitting position, reaching out to take hold of Ysayle’s hand, the one that had just been inside her, and pull it towards her lips. She seemed surprised to have her fingertips gently kissed and be on the receiving end of Rahela’s pleading stare.

“Ysayle, I, I think I figured it out…” She took the long digits into her mouth, licking and sucking off her own nectar. “I wanna pleasure you too. ”

The older woman was taken aback at this request, inhaling sharply, but didn’t yank her hand away either. Instead she raised her free hand to cover her mouth, looking more embarrassed than anything. “Rahela, this, this is about helping you, curing your affliction; it’s for no one’s sake but yours…”

Rah wasn’t deterred, putting her arms around Ysayle’s waist and pulling her closer with a hug. “Please… Moghan, he, he said that it only wears off once I feel completely satisfied, right?”

She felt the elezen’s long fingers, still wet with saliva, run through her hair, fingernails lightly scratching the scalp behind her ears. “I-I mean, that’s true, but--”

“The pollen doesn’t just make someone uncontrollably randy,” Rah explained, nuzzling her face into her lover’s navel. “It makes them  _ desire _ someone,  _ crave _ them, feel  _ attracted _ to them. And you were the one I was attracted to. But you’ve been doing everything so far; and, and it felt amazing, but I want to take you too. Please?”

  
Silence permeated the room for a long moment. But finally, Ysayle returned the hug, and murmured so quietly that Rahela almost missed it: “Very well.”


	9. Linkpearl Booty Call- Part 1 (F!WoL/Minfilia)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the WoL/Minfilia fill! I surprised myself at how long this wound up getting. More gayness and aggressive Minfy positivity in this chapter. My pink and yellow wife.

Before heading to the Chamber of Rule, you made an impulse decision to make what you thought would be a brief stop by Sapphire Avenue to pick up a gift for Minfilia. You decided fairly quickly on getting some flowers, but then the shopkeep decided to go into a long-winded speech about what kind you ought to buy depending on flower language, what you wanted to express, and who you wanted to express it to; eventually you just bought a bouquet of red carnations and ran away.

Getting into the Royal Palace was remarkably easy; evidently your arrival had been expected. The sultansworn who received you led you down a red-carpeted hallway to the wing that held the guest chambers. Once you arrived, you insisted you could find your own way to the Ruby Chamber. It was certainly easy; though the tall ornate doors bore no words, they were instead marked by gemstones. And though you were no goldsmith, you had enough common sense to know what colors rubies were. Like the common trite Ul’dahn love poems would say; ' _Rubies are red, Sapphires are blue,_ ’ and so on. The Gridanian version used flowers, (Roses and Violets) while Lominsans used times of day. (Sunsets and the midday sky) But you digress. Right there on your left side was a door sporting a glimmering bright red jewel, so that was likely the Ruby Chamber. Though it occurred to you as you knocked on the door that this could perhaps instead be the Garnet Chamber or Sunstone Chamber…

Fortunately, your worries were dashed when a familiar, beautifully lilting voice called out from inside, “ _One moment!_ ” Instinctively you stand at alert, holding the carnation bouquet behind your back. Soon enough, light footsteps approached and the door opened inward to reveal Minfilia, and your heart fair skipped a beat. Dressed in a loosely flowing, elegantly delicate floor-length light pink (and ever-so-slightly see-through) dressing gown, a far cry from her tighter, more uncomfortable daily attire. Her golden sunshine hair, normally done up in several tight braids, fell freely about her shoulders, reaching to nearly her waist; and if you weren’t mistaken, appeared to be damp and freshly-washed. And her face bore no makeup, yet she still sported flawlessly clear skin, lips and cheeks naturally resembling pink rose petals, and shadowless eyes still shone an almost white blue. Speaking of her face, she lit up with joy upon seeing you, rendering her features even more dazzling. You have a thought to yourself about how bloody lucky you are to be loved by this goddess of beauty. “You made it!” Minfilia exclaimed, hugging you briefly but tightly by your shoulders, and she lay a soft, quick peck upon your lips. “I began to worry you had gotten lost, dear.”

Still slightly reeling from the hug and kiss, you managed to clear your throat and say, “No, no, I was fine, sorry to keep you waiting.” Time to deploy your present. “But I had to take my time choosing _these_ for you.” At last you produced the carnation bouquet, hiding your blushing face behind the flowers.

But you still keep your eyes on Minfilia, watching her break into another broad grin to receive the flowers. “Oh my goodness, how lovely!” She carefully took the flowers from you, and held them close to her heart, her cheeks glowing pink. “Thank you so much, darling! You really shouldn't have, I'm blushing. But come in, come in!” She took a step to the side, giving you room to enter, motioning her hand invitingly. And naturally, you take her invitation and enter. The Ruby Chamber lives up to its name, quite nearly everything in the room was red; the walls and floor were a deep orange stone like the rest of Ul'dah, but the curtains, the furniture, the carpeting? All a ruby red. And befitting a chamber of the royal palace, everything looked like it was made from the best, most expensive materials. And functionally, watching Minfilia navigate the room, it practically resembled an apartment; you stood right then in a sitting room with a large window overlooking the city, a dining room behind you separated from the rest of the room by a half-partition also functioning as a countertop, a washroom over to your right…

Her voice caught your attention again, speaking to you from the dining room, placing your bouquet into a vase. “My apologies for calling you on such short notice. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

You make your way to the half-partition and lean on the counter opposite Minfilia. “Not really. I did have to ditch my party, but I would pick you over getting drunk with those arses any day. I’m quitting them tomorrow.”

“I see. And have you eaten yet?” You shake your head ‘no’. Minfilia continues, gesturing to a small plaque on the wall with the names of a wide array of foods, drinks, and desserts carved into it; “Nanamo informed us earlier that guests may order room service and have food from the royal kitchens delivered to them at their leisure. Shall I place an order now?”

Curious to see what's available, you take a look at the menu. As expected, most of it was the typical stuff enjoyed by the Ul’dahn elite; the portions are probably pathetically tiny, the very thought making your empty stomach growl in protest. After thinking a moment, you decide to roll the dice. “Steak. A big one. With some mashed popotoes.”

She nods. “I’ll call the staff right away. Why don't you sit down?”

You were just about to, until you remembered: spending the day dungeon diving meant that a large amount of filth had accumulated on you. Dried sweat, dried blood, dried mud… After all, you didn’t exactly start the day knowing you would be ending it with Minfilia in a luxurious room like this. “I'm all gross, I might ruin one of these couches if I sat on it.”

“Is that all? Well, that's easily remedied,” she pointed to the bathroom. “Just head in there and I'll draw a bath for you.”

“Ooh, perfect!” Within seconds you're struggling to walk to the door using only a single foot, while simultaneously trying to pull your other foot free from its boot. It works for about five fulms before you fall over on your backside. _Hydaelyn’s champion, everyone_. But at least you succeeded in removing a single boot. Walking normally the rest of the way to the door, you close it behind you and start to undress when you hear Minfilia’s voice addressing someone over linkpearl.

“ _Good evening, may I please place an order? For myself and a guest. She’ll have the aldgoat steak and mashed popotoes, and for myself, just a serving of salmon meuniere and a small salad. And two mulled teas for the both of us._ ” A short pause. “ _Dessert? Hmm, a rolanberry shortcake, if you please? Thank you very much, sir._ ”

Meanwhile, you were quite in awe at the location you were now standing in. This had to be the most absurdly ornate and luxurious washroom you had ever seen in your life; polished marble floors, towering domed ceilings, walls decorated with ornate gold designs, enough to boggle the mind at how much all this must have cost. And in the center of the room, surrounded by pinkish-red translucent curtains, was a massive undermount bathtub. Inspecting the tub, you find yourself feeling quite grateful for it being large enough to accommodate races larger than lalafells; fairly deep, but also containing a small shelf on the side large enough to sit on. But as was the case visiting any foreign bathrooms, you were unsure of how to correctly operate the faucets. One could never be too careful. Perhaps this was why Minfilia had offered to fill the tub for you.

And speaking of Minfilia, she had come in right at that moment. You felt a little swell of pride as she eyed your nude body appreciatively, (you unconsciously struck what might be considered a casual, yet seductive pose when she entered) but she couldn't keep looking at it, as she turned a series of complex-looking, unlabelled knobs and started the water running. Finally she sits herself down on the edge of the tub beside you. “Our supper shall be ready shortly; some half-bell, I was told.”

“Great, I was getting really hungry.” The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, listening to the sound of water crashing to the bath’s floor. It’s then that you realize that the room is quite cold; even though the climate outside was warm, the polished tiles in here managed to be cold enough to give you goosepimples on your arms and, you notice with some embarrassment, to cause your nipples to stand on end. (You wonder if she notices) You try to think of conversation topics; both to distract yourself from waiting in the cold, and because it’s not often enough that the two of you get to meet and just talk casually. “By the way, Minfy,” she turns, hearing the cute nickname you coined for her. “Salmon meuniere? I didn’t know you like fish.”

She nods, and smiles, looking down to the side, as if recalling a fond memory. “‘Twas one of F’lhaminn’s favorite dishes to cook when I was growing up, and so it became a favorite of mine as well.”

“Aww, that’s nice. Hopefully the culinarians paid to make food for royalty can do it justice!”

Minfilia nods again, and you can feel that topic ending. You scratch the back of your head, racking your brain for another topic. “What were you talking about with the Alliance? If you, Nanamo, Kan-E-Senna, and Merlwyb were all here, it must have been important.”

“We were discussing updates on Garlean activity, the movements of the beast tribes, determining if the Scions’ cooperation will be needed, the same sort of topics usually spoken of in the Fragrant Chamber, but today it happened to be over tea and cakes in the sultana’s quarters. The atmosphere there is calmer, and thus easier to speak your own mind. They meet approximately once a moon, but oftentimes I'm too swamped with paperwork to attend, but obviously, I made an exception for tonight, and already I am quite glad I did so. ‘Tis rare when I find myself able to venture out of the Solar, and having the opportunity to listen rather than explain things myself.”

“E-heh…” That last remark of hers drew out a sheepish laugh from you, bringing to mind how often you found yourself asking for clarifications of current events; sometimes you lost track of all the city-state politics, and always you were grateful that Minfilia (as well as sometimes Tataru and Urianger) handled the boring paperwork while you were off adventuring and saving the realm. “Your explanations are always welcome, of course. There’s a reason you’re the leader and not me. You’re the smart one.”

“Oh, don’t say that…” She meant that in response to the teasingly disparaging comments you made about yourself, but she couldn’t quite hide the tiny hint of a smile at your flattering her. _Flattery will get you everywhere_ , Thancred once told you. So you’re just about to pay her another compliment when her hand brushes against your bare thigh. Perhaps it was accidental, but it makes you remember something. Minfilia had invited you here to spend the night together; you don’t want to assume anything, but you were fairly sure she had meant _together_ together. But besides the flowers and the kiss at the door, you realized this hand on your leg was the first explicitly amorous event of the night. Not that something _had_ to happen, of course, it wasn’t as though you and she went at it every time you were alone in the same room. You would have been perfectly happy if tonight only consisted of cuddling and conversation and a nice dinner.

But her hand was idly resting on your leg and the bathtub was almost full and that brought another question to the forefront of your mind. Perhaps you needed to be the one taking initiative. ”Aaand one more thing, Minfilia, I have to ask. Was your offer to draw the bath for me, also an offer to join me…?” You made sure to punctuate the question with a grin and a wink.

The Antecedent giggled, but you weren’t sure if that was a positive or a negative. “I’ll stay in the room, if you wish. But I’ve already taken my own bath. Perhaps some other time,” she shrugs. But before you can look slightly crestfallen, she scoots closer to you and puts her lips to your ear. “Say, tomorrow morning?”

“Ah, s-sure,” you blushed. _The tables had turned, and the flirter had become the flirted with._ It looked like both tonight and tomorrow morning would be something to look forward to.

At that moment she turned around to check the height and temperature of the water; with a satisfied nod, she turned the same set of knobs in the opposite direction, shutting the water off. And then she nodded to you, motioning for you to step inside. Not that you needed prompting, practically diving into the bath, causing a large splash.

The warm water felt amazing, soothing your tired body almost immediately, and you spend an extra few seconds just holding yourself underwater, enjoying it. But of course, before long you have to return to the surface. Sitting down on the shelf at the edge of the tub, you set yourself to work grabbing the fanciest bar of soap within reach and scrubbing yourself clean.

Meanwhile, you let Minfilia do what she liked while you washed the grub from the rest of your body. Seating herself down just behind and above you, she reached into your field of vision to take a bottle of shampoo and open pour some into her hand. A wonderfully pleasing array of scents filled your nose as she worked a lather into your hair. Her fingertips massaged your scalp and you didn't bother to stifle a happy, relaxed sigh at how soothing it was. _This was better than any hair appointment with Jandelaine_. Getting so lost in the sensation, you almost miss her voice instructing you to lean the back of your head into the water to rinse.

And instead, you take a deep breath through the nose and submerge yourself completely underwater. But you keep your eyes on her, watching carefully for movements in the distortion of light. Finally, when you’ve stayed down long enough, Minfilia leans down, face hovering just above you. That’s when you strike: coming back up, resurfacing and laying a smooch upon her nose.

You positively relish any time you break through the dutiful Antecedent’s composure and make her dissolve into peals of laughter, and this time was definitely one of them.

“ _How could I have fallen for such a triiiiick?_ ” She moaned theatrically, though the words were muffled by her hands, as she’d been hiding her face behind them, thoroughly flustered by your affectionate prank. If you’d been just a little bit meaner, you could have pulled her down with you. But you simply settle for resting your head upon her leg.

“ _‘Cause you love meee_.”

Your fit of giggles managed to die down eventually, and soon you were back to cleaning yourself, taking full advantage of this fancy soap and hair product; only one night to enjoy it, after all. Minfilia still sat behind you, but letting you clean yourself, minding her own business but staying close until she spoke up again.

“Wait a moment,” she said, a sudden tinge of concern in her voice. “On your arm, where did that new wound come from?”

You look down to the indicated injury, a long, but relatively shallow cut upon your right forearm. The blood had been washed off, but the slash remained and still looked fresh, the skin around it raised slightly. Nevertheless you try to assuage her worries, “Nothing to worry about, that's from today's dungeon; a bear in Halatali tried to have a go at me, but he only nicked me. It stopped bleeding hours ago, shouldn't even leave a scar.”

Minfilia seemed relieved that it wasn't serious, but also wasn't completely convinced. “How fortunate that the wound is not as grievous as it looks.” And from that you could tell what she was thinking now: ‘ _How easily your injury could have been far worse…_ ’ She lifted your injured arm above your head, and lightly pressed her lips to the cut.

Without meaning to, you found yourself recalling doing the same thing for her; on the night you returned from Castrum Centri. Recovering from the weeks of torture and suffering inflicted upon her by that white-armored viper, the anxiety for Thancred’s safety, the pressure of preparing her decimated, ragtag troops for a bitter war… Perhaps it was the Echo’s doing, but at that moment you felt everything she did. And at that moment, all you wanted to do was to take every one of her pain and fears away. That night was the first time you kissed her. Perhaps it was wrong of you to push that on her so soon while she was still so vulnerable, and you half-expected her to reject you; but she didn’t. She let you kiss her lips, she let you kiss every cut and scar and bruise on her body, and she held you and let out such sweet relieved sighs while you did it, as if every kiss was like a miraculous soothing balm to heal her.

And so it continued, night after night, even as you saved Eorzea, even as you found her mother, even as you learned her true name. You remember how nervous she had been to tell you the tale of sad little freshly-orphaned Ala Mhigan refugee Ascilia, and how much your admiration for her only grew, and you promised to love both Ascilia and Minfilia. F’lhaminn gave your relationship her blessing, and you fully understood the weight behind it. You weren’t sure if the Archons knew yet, and you wondered how they’d react. Papalymo and Y’shtola might not approve, Yda probably would, and Thancred? Minfilia was special to Thancred, and you knew his part in her story as well; he would certainly be protective of her, but he always supported both you and her. But regardless of whether or not they knew of what went on behind closed doors, you and her always maintained a professional relationship in public. It wasn’t out of any particular desire for secrecy, but it was just viewed as something completely separate from your duties as a Scion. Sometimes she needs you to fight a primal, sometimes she needs you to guard a caravan of crystals, and sometimes she needs you to love her.

“Is aught amiss? You're staring…”

You blink, her voice bringing you back to the present. “Er, uh, sorry,” you stammer. “I guess I’m a bit tired. Today’s dungeons took it out of me…”

“You do feel tense,” she murmurs in agreement. Her hands slid down to your shoulders and gripped them, evidently intending to massage them. “If I may?”

“Wow, usually it’s me doing this to you.” You give her a wry smile, and her cheeks seem just a touch pinker. “And yes, you may.”

Minfilia kneads the knots out of your shoulders, and you let out a low hum to let her know that her firm-yet-tender touch is keenly appreciated. Leaning your head to one side, you feel a satisfying ‘ _crack_ ’ on the other side of your neck. It’s then that you realize you should probably finish cleaning yourself up, since the last thing you need to clean is your chest. But she takes hold of your wrist just as you reach for the soap. She whispers in your ear, voice unexpectedly sultry, “Allow me, love.”

Taking up the soap and working a lather onto her hands, she reached down and cupped your breasts. She kneads them the same way she did your shoulders, but in a far more intimate way. You shuddered, skin both tingling and glistening as she worked her hands in slippery circles. She continued this for a brief few minutes, sometimes giving them a soft squeeze, before dipping her hands into the water and rinsing the soap from your chest. For a moment you thought that meant she was stopping, but she did not; quite the opposite, Minfilia took her fondling one step further, now delicately tracing her forefingers in a circle around each of your areolae, and then giving your erect nipples a hard, fast pinch. A breathy cry escaped your throat and your head reflexively tilted back; and that’s when her mouth captured yours. It was nothing like your playful, chaste kisses earlier tonight, this one was deep and mind-meltingly warm. You take but a millisecond to reciprocate it, gladly receiving her tongue and meeting it with your own. Your hands raised up to rest on her arms, her hands still at work, each pinching and tugging at a tiny nub, but it paled in comparison to the dance that was going on in your mouths, hot sighs melding together in between insistent, open-mouthed kisses. Hot tongues pressed and slid against each other, one pair of lips suckled on another, all served to stoke a pulsing fire within you. A fire that wanted her right here, right now.

But still, you ask first. Catching an opportunity when your lips separated for a chance to catch your breath, a small trail of saliva still hanging between you, you flash her a seductive smile, and breathe out just above a whisper, “Are you _sure_ you don’t wanna get in…?”

She doesn’t respond, nor does she get a chance to; nearly two seconds after, the sound of a sudden, loud knocking nearly jolts the both of you into the air. That knock was swiftly followed by a nasally male voice cheerfully announcing, “ ** _Roooom serviiiiiice! Supper for Mistress Antecedent plus ooooooone!_** ”

You have to take a moment for your heart to slow to a normal rate, but a very flustered Minfilia is already on her feet, trying to straighten herself out to look more presentable before hurrying out of the washroom, calling back, “ _Y-yes-hold-on-I-shall-be-with-you-in-but-a-moment!_ ” But you chance to turn around, just in time to see her apologetically wincing in your direction, quickly pointing to something to her left before closing the door behind her.

Deciding that your supper’s arrival marked the end of your bath, you pull out the stopper and drain the water in the tub; at least that part was simple enough. Drying off was simple as well, and upon inspecting the direction in which Minfilia pointed as she was heading to answer the door, you find another bathrobe, a purple version of the one she’d been wearing; she’d must have been the one to leave it out for you as well. You smile at the gesture, but you also know it won’t stay on for very long, and neither would hers. After supper, you’d pick up where you left off.

The night was still young, after all.


End file.
